Welcome to Charming
Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1892. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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“Cheese and Crust” - an exclamation common among the lower classes. A perversion of the invocation of the name of Jesus Christ, though considered somewhat respectful for its veiling of the oath. — Bounce
Maybe a choice shade of grey - the closest thing she had to mourning clothes - as a symbolic marker that her relationship with Victor was dead.
dining is pageantry

i have a rendezvous with life
That smile, wolfish and unbridled, shot through Sophia as well as a cupid’s bow might. Too jaded to call it love, she knew it meant something. Ozymandias meant something to her, and the fact that he’d come out to Paris for her felt like validation of that thing, and the disregard for her status as an unconventional mother felt important too. It shouldn’t feel important. But it did. The ballerina didn’t want to dwell on what it all meant… but it crept up on her anyway. Like a potion that hypnotized her to melt at just a precise cue– in this case, his chaste kiss on her neck. The affection surprised her. Though her feet kept moving in their idle no-music sway, her fingertips fluttered at his waist before her hand settled, splayed over his abdomen.

“Then I accept your challenge,” she declared, stubbornly. In truth, she would hate it if he didn’t mean it. What should I do but tend upon the hours and times of your desire. But naturally, he would say anything he thought he needed to in the moment. And Sophia would test him, and prove it. To both of them. There was nothing more here than what was on the face of it.

Something will faze you Ozymandias, I am sure of it. Oh–” Sophia’s head craned back, wearing an expression of sheer mischief. One of their first meetings inspired her, actually. “Come along,” she decided. The dancer’s fingertips skated smoothly down Ozy’s arm to take him by the hand, navigating them with haste from their table and around the dour-looking ladies who stared at them and down the stairs.

The maître d' seemed a bit concerned to find them ready to depart so soon, to which Sophia hastily volunteered they had forgotten a prior engagement, yes please our cloaks, oh but I insist we pay, oh but are you very sure, oh thank you for the lovely free meal, yes we’ll say goodbye to Chef on our way out. They exited through kitchens out back so Sophia could bid her friend adieu, the man maundering about the shows in town and that they were welcome to their home for dinner. Occasionally Sophia would glance at Ozy, sometimes to observe his demeanor in a bustling kitchen – Merlin knows when he last saw one – other times to make a sympathetic or silly face. After their third exchange of la bise Ozy earned… a handshake and a nod, which signaled their reprieve. The pair saw themselves out into a narrow backway street.

“Lovely,” Sophia remarked upon a rat that skittered past them, and led their trajectory out to the main streets. (Yes he did say anything, but the situation must be far more dire to pull out alleyway sex from her repertoire.) This was the muddley part of town between magical and muggle Paris, and Sophia felt comfortable navigating either one. “Since it’s not snowing, we can walk there,” she vaguely-explained, and without much thinking of it she took Ozymandias’s arm. Not realizing how this could be considered a test, too. Though she sensed how it could be seen that way, once they stepped out into a busy main avenue. Yes they were in Paris. Did that mean they could… act as though a couple in public? Soph glanced at him to gauge if the answer was written on his face.

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thank you gin for the set<3

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